


Nesting

by silverlysilence



Series: A Hint of Smallville in Gotham [4]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Smallville
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlysilence/pseuds/silverlysilence
Summary: There was a reason Clark headed to Gotham instead of Metropolis when his world fell a part.





	1. An Empty Nest

Clark faith in humanity had started to wane for some time now. His parents, the Kents, had raised him to see the good in everyone, which had been easy when the majority of his life was spent in a town called Smallville. At the same time, his Ma and Pa had also inadvertently installed a fear of humans in him. However unintentional it might have been, their constant reminders he could never trust anyone with his unique abilities in a town full of strange things made him cautious. When they explained his heritage was not of this Earth, he finally understood their rational and the cautiousness he felt began to morph into reservations. He held on to his belief, looking for the best in humanity, but it wasn’t as firmly as it had been pre-revelation.

He hadn’t wanted to say anything to anyone after learning the truth. The discovery was too new and he hadn’t known what to think. However, Clark believed his friends wouldn’t see him as an extra-terrestrial spectacle and when the day finally came that he felt comfortable enough in his own – _alien_ – skin, he would tell them the truth. That day never came. The choice cruelly ripped from him when Pete Ross found his spaceship.

His best friend’s reaction hadn’t been at all what Clark hoped for. He thought Pete would understand, would know what it was like to be different in a small town. His best friend should have empathized with him seeing how his family was the only African-Americans in Smallville and were considered outsiders despite living there for two generations. None of which mattered when faced with a _true outsider_.

Pete may have kept his secret, but their friendship was strained and it never recovered. Even after a year and numerous front row seats to Clark risking his life to save those in trouble, including Pete himself, his best friend couldn’t handle the truth. Clark was forced to remove the memories of his alien heritage from Pete’s mind using the Crystal of El to protect his friend and himself.

That was the day the seed his parents planted in him sprouted and tendrils of fear took root deep in his subconscious. Roots which only grew deeper and deeper when he learned that he was being investigated by not only Lex’s, but Chloe’s as well. Lex, for his part, couldn’t leave well enough alone and while the youngest Luthor was allowed to keep secrets, apparently, Clark wasn’t which gave the millionaire incentive to continually pried into a farm boy’s life as if it was his right. As for Chloe, ever since their English teacher assigned Clark Kent as her interviewee for a paper’s subject matter in freshman year, his past wasn’t safe from her either because he was a _story_.

Neither of the two let it go. Even after he asked each of them to drop their investigations. They had both agreed to his face, but it wasn’t enough to get either Lex or Chloe to quit when his back was turned. Given these were the people he considered friends – and Clark desperately wanted to continue being friends with them in the face of their obvious deception; _needing_ to see the good in them – it was no wonder he feared humanity.

Even now, despite not having seen any of his friends since he left Smallville for Gotham University, Clark wanted to believe they would do the right thing. That Pete would come around if Clark had told him the truth of his heritage before they’d stumbled across his spaceship after it had been ripped from its hiding place by a hurricane. That Chloe’s need for the truth to be open knowledge would come second to their friendship. That Lex would respect his wishes and stop scrutinizing the meteor shower – securitizing _him_ – to do something more productive with his money.

Nevertheless, Clark’s subconscious cautioned him to steer clear. For this reason, when Mr. Pennyworth suggested to surround himself with people to remind him why humanity deserved to be saved, the young man didn’t contact anyone from Smallville. No, Clark Kent headed for the circus.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm...this series is just me stringing together random universes together with my own twist to make this...yeah, no real set universe here but I think that's self explanatory?
> 
> Enjoy.

He was lost.  Metropolis was huge.  Buildings of glass and metal stretching towards the heavens as the city’s inhabitants filled the otherwise lifeless structures with brilliance and vitality.  Everything about Metropolis left him speechless, overwhelmed by reverence and a slight bit of trepidation ever since he’d taken the first step off the train.  His emotions only grew with each step further into the heart of the metropolitan where there was something new to look at every turn.  

Yet he cared not for the huge reflective towers gleaming brightly above him.  Neither did he bother to gap in excitement upon seeing _Lex_ _Luthor_ milling about in the middle of a crowd of normal, everyday people.  Despite being surrounded by hordes of pedestrians and the occasional tycoon, he felt so very alone. 

No one bothered to stop when he sought their attention and with each brush off, he felt his earlier trepidation growing in direction correlation to his diminishing astonishment. The moisture in the corner of his eyes began to form when his astonishment bottomed out causing his trepidation to twist in to gut wrenching fear. Yet, he refused to allow the moisture to evolve into tears.  He would not cry.

“Are you as lost as I am?” a mild-mannered voice had him jolting out of his mild panic attack due to the close proximity.  The tone of the voice reminded him of the lion tamer attempting to pacify one of the wounded cats. When he twisted around to face the owner of said voice, he felt very much like said cornered animal, having to tilt his head back to get a good look at the man towering over him wearing a pleasant smile.  “Because I have no idea where I am, how about you?  Do you know where we are?”

Gulping down his distress, he shook his head negatively.  “No, I’m lost too.”

“I guess we can be lost together then,” the brunet crouched down so his massive frame was at the same level as he was which reduced the intimidating factor by half.  The faded plaid shirt and wore blue jeans the man wore further diminished the initial threatening appearance to that akin to a growling puppy drenched from the rain; which wasn’t much of a threat to anyone.

“Really?” he sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his sleeve.

“Really,” the man nodded.

For the first time since he had been separated from his parents, he felt a bit of hope well up inside of him but it was quickly quashed.  “My mommy said I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“Your mommy’s a very smart woman and you should listen to her, my ma made me agree to the very something before she let me come to Metropolis.”

“You still listen to your mommy?  But you’re all grownup!”

The tall man bit his lip to keep from chuckling and shook his head.  “I don’t think my ma considers fourteen all grown up.”

“You’re only fourteen?  But-but your almost as big as Samson and he’s _really_ big!  He calls me a baby but I’m seven years old, I’m not a _baby_!”

This time, the teenager couldn’t hold back his chuckles. “Do you want to know how I got so big?” the brunet asked and he quickly nodded his head.  The teenager hummed, looking around suspiciously at the people pointy ignoring them, and leaned closer to whisper through a cup hand.  “It’s because I eat all my vegetable and have seconds.”

“Really?” he drew out with more than a slight amount of disbelief and skepticism in his voice.

“Really, I swear or my name isn’t Clark.”

Blue eyes narrowed as he raised one of his eyebrows like his mother did when she knew he wasn’t telling the truth. “Is your name Clark?”

“Yep,” the teenager nodded reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a battered wallet to show him a student ID.  “See.”

Taking the card, he studied the tiny photo of the teenager with the name Clark J. Kent printed to the side and underneath his name, it proclaimed he was a freshman at Smallville High.

“I have one of these too,” he handed the plastic card back before taking out his own tiger-head shaped wallet and slide out the ID his parents’ insisted he carried with him to show Clark.

“Richard John Grayson of Haley’s Circus,” the teenager read off the card, green eyes flickering away from the small laminated paper and up at him.  “You’re a member of the circus?  That’s pretty cool.”

“Yep, though everyone calls me Dick; unless I’m in trouble, then it’s Richard,” the child made a brief face and prattled on enthusiastically.  “I’m training to be an acrobat. Dad says I’m almost ready to start performing with them as a part of their act and not just rehearsals.  I can’t wait!”

“That sounds so much cooler than living on a farm.”

“You live on a farm?”

“Yep, in Smallville.  That’s in Kansas, just so you know.”

“But Kansas is _so_ far away. What are you doing in Metropolis?”

“Apparently, getting lost,” Clark grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.  “Although, I was supposed to be on a school fieldtrip with the rest of my class to the Metropolis Museum of Natural History but I took a wrong turn somewhere and here I am, hopelessly lost. Just don’t tell my teacher, he already hates me enough as it is.”

A thoughtful look crossed Dick’s face before he grinned. “Only if you don’t tell my mommy I wondered off.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

That was the day Dick Grayson spent reading comics with Clark in a nearby bookshop waiting for his worried parents to come for him after the teenager made a call to Haley’s Circus in a nearby telephone booth.  It was a day he soon won’t forget. The day he met Clark Kent.  Someone he would keep in contact with through written word and the occasional phone call until one day, the letters stop coming and the calls went unanswered.


	3. The Misguided Robin

He had never seen the guy before but that didn’t mean much in the gothic city made of shadows.  What did matter was how easy of a mark the idiot made. The darker style of clothing allowed the man to blend in with the crowd, yet the way the guy moved and his accent – unlike any he had ever heard before – divulged his nonresidential status.  Denotating the brunet won’t know the unwritten laws of Gotham’s streets. 

It was a breeze to bump into the stranger, faking tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, and a small apology was all it took to have a battered wallet in his possession. He wasn’t recklessly to check the spoils of his ill-gotten gain right away.  Instead, he braved the sudden gale of cold wind to sneak around a corner and into the alley where a huge grin split his face in two. 

The victorious feeling rapidly deteriorated along with his smile when he finally opened the wallet.  It was empty.  There was no cash, no plastic, hell, there wasn’t even an ID to indicate who the wallet belonged to.  Not even the wallet itself was worth any value.  It was a total bust.

Frustrated, he went to chuck the piece of junk into the dumpster when the sound of crinkling caught his attention, keeping him from tossing the piece of junk.  A frown spread across his face upon noticing a slip of paper sticking out of the busted seams and he had to work the paper in order to ripped it from in between the flimsy fabric.  There was nothing special about the doubled-up paper and when he unfolded it, big bold red letters took up the entirety of the page.

_Better Luck Next Time._

Jason Todd growled, crumpling the scrap of paper up in his fist before tossing it and the wallet into the dumpster. 

Oh, it was so on.  The man wouldn’t know what hit him.

He found the guy – boy really, because at six years old he had more street smarts than the idiot wondering between rival gang territories without any regards to their _rules_ – not even a day later walking through Falcone’s territory without a care in the world despite it being near dark.  Picking his pocket was easier than the first time and he only had a slight hiccup when the street kid made his getaway, tripping over thin air.

As soon as he was safe, tucked away on one of the building’s fire escape, Jason extracted his stolen goods from his pocket and was shocked to find the same beat up wallet in his hands as before.  That or the brunet had two wallets exactly alike, down to the torn stitching which wasn’t likely.  The idiot must have gone back for the wallet at some point, just why was a mystery since the thing was falling apart.

Once again, there wasn’t anything of value save for another note.  _Not Even Close._

The third time revealed the same wallet he had chucked into the bay. _You’re A Terrible Thief, Conversely Your Sleight Of Hand Is Excellent.  May I Suggest A Change in Occupation, A Magician Perhaps?_

By the sixth time, there was a dollar bill along with the familiar handwritten note. _Here’s Your Conciliation Prize._

Jason was busy throwing the newest note – _Maybe You Should Pickpocket Someone Else?_ – along with the mysteriously reappearing wallet into another dumpster when he was suddenly shoved face first into the brick wall.

“Watz we got here boyz? A punkass kid workin’ our territory,” the slurred voice of his captor filled the alleyway as a putrid smell filled the boy’s nose when the man holding him leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“Let go ya fucker!” Jason growled, throwing his head back and clipping his assailant’s chin.  His head throbbed from the impact but it was worth it when the man’s grip loosened enough for him to wriggle free.  Breaking loose, he made a mad dash for the streets. 

He didn’t get far. 

One of the thug’s friends caught him by the arm, swinging him around and heaving him back into the alleyway.  Jason tumbled forward, struggling to gain his footing and hurried to turned around, putting his back to the wall. Blue eyes dart from one thug to the next, taking in the various hidden weapons on the five lowlife closing in on him.

“Wat ya thunk we outta do to him boyz?” Smelly – as Jason aptly dubbed him – spoke up again.

“Hiz a purty thang, we coulda get billz for him atta the docks,” the bucktooth pudgy man to Smelly’s left gave a lewd smile, licking his lips.

“Yeah?  Any of you mother fuckers try it and I’ll bite it off,” the dark-haired child snarled, showing off his pearly whites and made a chomping motion for good measure.

“He’s sure gotta mouth on him, that’s for sure,” the only guy wearing a suit – no matter how ill fitted – chuckled, pushing his way to the front of the group.  It was apparent from how the other men deferred to him, moving out of his way that this was the guy he needed to worry about, the leader.  “That can be easily remedied, can’t it Knives?’

The man behind him held up three blades between his fingers, licking what appeared to be congealed blood off one of them.  “Whae`er ya say, bozz. I ain’t gotta problem getting me handz a lit`e dirty.”

“Well I do,” every head turn towards the mouth of the alleyway where a man wearing a long black trench coat stood with his hands in the pocket. “Ya see, this brat and me have some unfinished business to attend to.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” Leader quirked an eyebrow, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and slapping one out.

“He stole my wallet,” the shadowy figure stepped into the alleyway, his head gesturing towards Jason.  All eyes followed the gesture, landing on the battered wallet still clenched in the boy’s hands. “I’d appreciate it if you’d hand him over and I’d be on my way.”

“I see, well this does appear to be a conundrum, because the boy has wronged me as well. The question remains, why should I hand him over to you?” the man hummed, holding out his cigarette which Smelly obediently lite.

“To prevent things from getting a bit messy?” the brunet offered with a smirk, blue eyes flashing as he pulled his hands out of his coat’s pockets.

“Hmm,” Leader took a few puffs of his cigarette as brown eyes gazed at the fit man opposing him, noticing the way hands clenched into fists. “Cigarette?”

The brunet raised an eyebrow, but didn’t hesitate in reaching out and slide one from the offered pack, not even flinching when his fingers brushed the other man’s.  However, as he pulled a cigarette out, there was a slight hesitation and instead of putting it in his mouth like he’d been about to, deft fingers tucked it behind his ear for later.

“Interesting ring you got here.  I can tell it’s gold, but what about the gem?  Some kind of ruby?” Leader questioned, holding up what appeared to be the other man’s class ring.  The brunet looked startled to see the ring, eyes traveling from it to his hand and back again. It was as if his whole demeanor changed, yet he was quick to recover and regain his posture.

“Meteorite.”

“Interesting, is it valuable?”

“To some? Very.”

“A trade then.  The kid for the ring.”

“Agreed,” the young man answered without a care for his lost possession that had just been stolen right underneath his nose. “Come on brat.”

Jason hesitated, clutching the wallet tighter in his hand, before cautiously taking a step forward.  When none of the thugs tried to stop him, he quickly made his way to the mouth of the alley.  The brunet’s arm shot out and gently wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close to his body.  Just in time too, as Bucktooth took a swing at him.

Jason’s Savior didn’t waste any time in retaliating and landed a solid punch, knocking both front teeth out while laying Bucktooth out flat.  Another of the thugs came up behind him, but a jabbed to the windpipe by a leather clad elbow left him hunched over and gasping for breath.  A third was able to get the brunet in a chokehold, only to be thrown across the alley. The last thug went for the cowardly approach and used Jason as a hostage.  It was his mistake, as the young child kneed him in the nuts.

Feeling someone behind him, Jason turned in time to see a knife just inches from his face being held back by a hand on Leader’s wrist. The grip tightened and the thug let out a wrenching scream as the blade clattered to the ground.  A crack could be heard and the screams grew louder.

“You can keep the ring, but if you ever lay a hand on my brat again, you’ll be sorry.”  With that the brunet released his grip on and shoved the man back on his ass.  “Come on brat, let’s go get something to eat. My treat.”

“My name’s not brat!” Jason growled as the two turned around on the mess of a man sniveling and cradling his hand to weakly to his chest. “It’s Jason.  Jason Todd.”

“Clark.”

There was a slight hesitation before he held up the batter piece of leather to his rescuer. “Here’s your wallet back.”

“Thanks.”

The two walked in silence for a little while and Jason was surprised when the young man led them to a dinner.  It seemed Clark was serious when he said he they were going to get something to eat. He didn’t even complain when Jason order three meals.  In fact, the man ordered five meals of his own.

They ate in silence which had the street kid on edge.  Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and asked the questions which had been building up the longer the silence stretched. 

“Why are you in Gotham? You’re obviously not from around here, despite your appearance – I dig the jacket by the way – but your ignorance of the streets’ laws exposes you as newcomer to the city.”

“I was actually aiming for Metropolis,” Clark waved his fork towards the window overlooking the bay and the city of lights across the water.  “Overshot by ten miles or so, was actually going to head back when you stole my wallet for the first time.  You piqued my interest and I thought I’d stick around after that.”

“Piqued?  Piqued? What kinda idiot used words like piqued?”

“Me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re weird and full of contradictions that just don’t make sense.”

“Oh, and why’d you say that?”

“You first messed with me just because I stole your stupid empty wallet. Then you save me from those thugs.  Your clothes make it seem like you’re from the streets but you’ve still got your kindness and don’t even get me started on your accent!”

“What’s wrong with my accent?”

“Nothing I guess…it’s just weird is all.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“But I’m taking it as such.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“You’re unusual.”

“Thank you.”

“Arg! That wasn’t a compliment either!”

That was the summer Jason Todd, six-year-old veteran street kid of Gotham, spent with Clark Kent, fifteen-year-old runaway from Kansas.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is the second multi-chapter fic in this series. Tell me what you think.


End file.
